I had a nurse check-up appointment this morning. It was fine. I wasn’t particularly feeling the need for a check-up or anything like that, but I was told to do it and I really really like following orders, especially around health things.

I like the nurse in my GP practice. She’s kind and competent and efficient and she mostly even remembers stuff about you from visit to visit, which can’t be easy given the size of the practice. But she also puts me on edge and leaves me feeling a bit like a little girl, or maybe it’s just that her demeanour triggers in me feelings that I had when I was a little girl.

I want to pass on information to her about pains and odd feelings etc., which I know are probably nothing, but I still want a medical professional to confirm as nothing. But when I do so, I sort of get that feeling like I’m being a nuisance or over-reacting or something like that. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what it is that she does or doesn’t do in our interactions that leaves me feeling like this, but the feeling is there all the same.

No doubt it’s all down to my own childhood issues, growing up with two medical professional parents, and many times being told when I complaint of ailments that “there’s always an arse or an elbow with you”.

I mean, it’s probably good to learn to curtail one’s hypochondriac leanings, but given that I had (have!) the feelings anyway, being told to shut up about them didn’t really make me feel any less anxious; I just stopped mentioning it.

And now as an adult or a parent, I do definitely see similar behaviour in my children, and I can find it frustrating, and I’m tempted to exclaim “You’re fine! There’s nothing wrong with you! Just get on with things!”. So I don’t even know what my parents were meant to do; I don’t even know how I’d parent small-me if I had the opportunity. Ideally I’d do something to help me cope with and deal with my own fears and anxieties. But if I could do that for then, I’d probably be able to do that for now, and we’ve all seen that that is most certainly not where my skills lie.


Had a bit of a (longer than intended) break there as G.’s aunt called around for a phone fixing. In the meantime the hospital rang to confirm Gestational Diabetes is to be my companion for the remaining four weeks of this pregnancy. Joy.

Just like the last time again, my post-prandial sugars are fine, it’s the fasting sugars that are over the line. It’s really frustrating because you’ve limited control when it comes to fasting sugars. I can control my post-eating levels by being smart about what I eat and eating small, frequent meals, and taking a short walk after eating, but I’ve no idea how to control what’s happening when I’m sleeping.

It also means that Christmas will be fairly miserable with no chocolate and few potatoes and no stuffing at dinner. No stuffing ever in the other meaning, in fact!

I was talking with G. about it a little last night: when you have something like Gestational Diabetes it’s actually easier to “be good” and stick to the rules when you’re doing it for someone else. And also when you know there’s an end date in sight. I remember having a huge craving for “just one chocolate” when I was pregnant with the twins – and I had it, and savoured it, but as a very “one off” (I’ll definitely find it hard to be off sweet things again). And I was miserable and felt very hard done by. But I could do it for the sake of giving the kiddos the best possible chance.

Also, having Twin 1 whipped away to the high care unit for two nights because of low blood sugar is an event I would be really determined to avoid if at all possible. If I keep that in mind, I think it will make it all more bearable. No piece of chocolate is worth an overnight with my newborn taken away from me.

So now… I got really organised with my task list over the weekend, so I know exactly what I need to get done today and I feel all the happier to get to it. I’ll be back here tomorrow!

(P.S. Still angry about house.)

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